Hot Zone (Major Crimes Unit Book 2) Page 7
11
That had been Howard, she was sure of it. He’d been standing there only twenty-metres away from Sarah, watching while she helped kidnap a man. A man he, too, had been after. What did the MCU want with Krenshaw? Was she impeding a government operation by intervening and getting to the doctor first? Did she even care?
Sarah sat up front with her father in the first of the two black vans, staring at the back streets as they slunk away from the main roads.
“Did you get a look at that man in the car park,” her father asked. “He saw your face. You should never got out of the van without a mask. What the Hell were you doing?”
“I didn’t think. I was just trying to help. Your men were making a scene, and excuse me if my wits aren’t that sharp. I’ve been locked up with nothing to do for four months.”
“There are no excuses for mistakes. You’ve compromised this entire unit. That man looked like a police officer.”
“He’s MCU,” Sarah said. “I know him. He knows me.”
Her father punched the top of the steering wheel. “Damn it, Sarah. My unit can only exist if it fades in and out of the shadows. If you’ve been recognised then your MCU boyfriend has something to work with. It’s not like it would be hard to get a positive ID on a face like yours, even if he hadn’t known you already.”
Sarah looked away, out of her window, anything to avoid the burning glare of her father. “He isn’t my boyfriend. I worked with him for a couple of weeks at most.”
Her father glanced at her for a moment, then stopped the van at the edge of a side street. Before he spoke he let out a disappointed grunt. “If you’ve been ID’d then we need to get this mission done quickly and disappear. There’s no going back for you now, Sarah. You can’t change your mind because you know too much now about me and my men. If I let you leave, they can use you to get to me.”
Sarah frowned. “Who exactly would be trying to get to you? What have you done?”
“My duty,” he said. “A grievous crime in this day and age. I’m serious, Sarah. You’re in this now. This is your life. The choice has been taken away from you. Do you understand? You can’t go back to your old life.”
Sarah grunted. “I don’t have an old life to go back to. This isn’t about my choice being made for me, though, is it? It’s about your choice being made. You’re stuck with me now. You can’t get rid of me, even if you want to.”
Major Stone glared at her so hard that she shrank in her seat. “Sarah, there’s always a way to get rid of someone, even a daughter. Don’t forget that.”
Sarah opened her mouth to speak but dared not. She felt like she was sitting beside a great venomous lizard ready to strike at the slightest movement. Was there any love her father held for her at all?
He pulled away from the curb and headed back out onto the main road. Twenty-minutes later, they were back at the warehouse’s courtyard, where they parked up next to the bright red e-type Jaguar. The courtyard was enclosed and hidden from the roadside, which made the warehouse an excellent hideout — for that, Sarah realised, was what it was. Everybody got out of the vans and Dr Krenshaw, clutching a briefcase tightly to his chest, was bundled into the warehouse. There he was taken away by her father and a pair of men she had yet to speak to.
“He’s getting your old room,” said Ollie.
“Then I hope he doesn’t fancy watching the telly.”
Ollie didn’t understand her comment — how could he? — so he just smiled and headed off.
Rat came up to her a minute later, the expression on his face far less kind. “I hear you’re with us for the duration. Good. Gives me time to get a little payback.”
Sarah rolled her eyes like he was nothing but a mere irritation. “You should be thanking me. I was going to kill you.”
“I’m not as easy to kill as you think, sweetheart.”
“All men die the same when you cut their throats. Maybe next time I won’t aim for your shoulder.”
Rat sneered and walked away.
Sarah milled around the warehouse, glad to be alone for a while. From all of the oily workbenches, she assumed the warehouse had once been concerned with some kind of assembly. The odd scrap of metal here and there further suggested that this place once housed bored employees fitting things together. Now it was a staging area for a team of ex-SAS. How things changed. Six months ago, she had almost had her life on track. Now she felt utterly directionless. Her father’s orders were the only thing steering her, and that was not necessarily something she was comfortable with. She held no great love for her father, had not known him well enough to have such depth of emotion, yet there was a yearning inside of her, a deep desire to gain the respect — if not love — of Major Stone. It was fantasy, most likely, but the little girl inside of her couldn’t let it go. After all that had happened, a hug from her daddy could mend so much, yet the thought of it happening felt childishly naive. Her father was a brutal killer, not a hugger.
It was a while before the others began filtering back to the main floor of the warehouse. Sarah took the opportunity to make the acquaintance of the rest of the group. The black man she’d beaten up upon her escape was named Rupert, of all things. He was embarrassed about the incident more than angry and admitted that her ruse of insanity had utterly bewildered him. For a hired killer, he was friendly, but there was an air of regimentally to him that suggested he was an institutionalised military man. Men like Rupert could not go back to ordinary life. There were two other men. Graves, a man who was older than her father by at least a decade, but his wiry frame and leather skin only added to his aura of lethality – like a wizened cobra. Spots was a much younger man, with the worst acne Sarah had ever seen. He smiled more than Graves did but not by much. Both men oozed with the coiled menace of warriors-on-standby, ready to strike out and kill at a moment’s notice, just waiting for their next order. They were brutal soldiers; elite grunts.
Sarah made her way over to Ollie, who she deemed the least likely to suddenly attack her. The man seemed out of place amongst the others, less a soldier and less a killer. He smiled at her warmly when she approached him. “Hey, Sarah. You doing okay?”
“Just a bit Alice in Wonderland, you know?”
“Curiouser and curiouser,” he replied.
“Exactly. So what are we going to do with the doctor now that we have him?”
“Ask your father. He tells us what to do when he needs us to do it. We don’t ask questions.”
Sarah frowned. “You don’t ask questions? Why would you not want to know what you’re fighting for?”
“I know what I’m fighting for,” he said. “Your father. I’m not ex-SAS like the other guys, never even served, but I’m just as willing to jump into the flames for what I believe in.”
“If you never served, then how do you know my father?”
Ollie smiled at her as if he admired her questioning nature. “I’m an old friend of his, but I was never in the forces. I was a teacher.”
Sarah almost barked at him, so unexpected were his words. “You were a teacher?”
Ollie chuckled. “Yes, I was a teacher. I went to teach in Sri Lanka in my early twenties, married a local woman, Darla. She was a teacher, too. There was a long civil war going on in Sri Lanka, back then. The insurgents were the Tamil Tigers. One day they decided to take our school hostage in order to make demands of the Government. The government refused to even negotiate and a firefight ensued. The Tamil Tigers, used the children as human shields and barricaded the windows. We were trapped there as hostages for three days. Even when they cut of the water and electricity, turning the building into a sweating furnace, the Tigers did not submit. They were prepared to die before giving themselves up. Eventually the school burned. My wife didn’t make it out of her classroom. I was trapped in another part of the building but managed to get out. When I finally got to her, she was already dead.”
Sarah felt her left eye twitched, setting off a flare of pain in her scared eyelid. “I�
�m sorry,” she said quietly. “Seems like everywhere you turn these days there are terrorists wrecking lives.”
“It wasn’t the Tamil Tigers who killed my wife,” Ollie told her. “It was the government retaliation. They firebombed the entire school and let it burn. They wanted to kill the rebels more than they valued the life of their children. About half of us made it out alive, but the rest were left to burn. Nowadays, the Sri Lankan government boasts about how they are the only modern nation to entirely oust its terrorists. But the truth is, the terrorists are the ones in charge.”
“I’m sorry,” said Sarah.
“Anyway,” Ollie continued cheerily, despite the sadness in my eyes. “I moved back home and resumed contact with your father. He gave me purpose; a chance to eliminate the types of men who killed my lovely Darla. I’m not a born killer, Sarah, but I’ve turned my hand to it pretty well. In fact, I quite enjoy it. I don’t know what that means for my soul.”
Sarah understood the quenching pleasure of revenge and patted him on the shoulder. “Our soul isn’t in jeopardy when we kill bad people. It’s in jeopardy when we stop protecting the good ones.”
“Alright, men,” Major Stone barked, marching onto the warehouse floor. “Gather up.”
Everyone stopped talking and assembled.
“Well done on another successful mission,” he said. “We have the doctor safe and secure and I’ve just gotten the clearances we need to get him — and us — out of the country.”
“We’re leaving?” said Rat unhappily, now favouring his shoulder again and letting the pain show in his voice. “We only just came back home.”
Major Stone shot him a stony glance. “Your home is this unit, Rat. You gave up any entitlement to a home when you defected, as did I. Unfortunately, my daughter has been ID’d, which means we need to disappear for a while. Once we complete our mission and get out of the country, the heat will die off and we will come back.”
Sarah looked down at the floor as angry glances shot her way.
“So, where are we going, Major?” asked Ollie in a tone that suggested he had little problem with having to leave.
“We’re heading to Libya. We’ll land in Tripoli and head along the coast to Tunisia where we can pose as tourists and soak up the sun for a while.”
There was a quick cheer and suddenly Sarah didn’t feel so bad anymore. In fact, a bit of sunbathing sounded pretty good to her, although she wasn’t so sure her face and gender would make life easy in the more rural parts of the country. There was one other thing on her mind. “I thought Dr Krenshaw was wanted by the South African government. So why are we heading to Tripoli?”
Her father turned his glare to her and once again made her feel tiny. “Which is why they are having their people collect the doctor in Libya. South Africa doesn’t want to advertise their involvement in an unsanctioned manhunt. It’s a lot easier to conduct ourselves quietly in a place like Libya.”
Sarah was quiet.
Her father straightened up and lifted his chin. “Right, clear off, you lot. Our flights are at 0600 from Heathrow, so get your socks on by 0400.”
Everyone dispersed.
Her father marched away and Sarah went after him, asking, “What do we do once we get to Libya?”
Major Stone turned on her and bore into her with his emerald eyes. “I need for you to understand something for me, Sarah. You do not ask questions. I give orders and you follow them. You are a soldier now, not my daughter, so when I dismiss you, do not chase after me and start demanding to know things I have elected not to tell you.”
Sarah growled. “Are you capable of being anything other than an arsehole?”
“I’ll let you have that one, because you’re new. You don’t want to see what happens next time. Now get out of my sight.”
Sarah clenched her fists as her father — her superior — marched away into one of the offices. When she finally calmed down enough to walk away, Rat was laughing at her. He was too far away to have made out the words, but he could obviously tell she had just received a dressing down.
“You won’t get any special treatment around here,” he said.
“I don’t need any,” she said.
“I would’ve been the first to help you settle in if you’d been a little nicer to me. Then you went and stabbed me, you bitch.”
Sarah marched up to Rat and stood right in his face. He wasn’t afraid of her. In fact, he was snickering with delight.
“Say that word again,” she said.
“You think you’re something really hot, don’t you? Don’t forget I watched you rot in a cell for four months. I know you’re nothing but a weak, ordinary woman. You won’t last with us. We’re men.”
Sarah grinned, repressing a sudden urge to bite the man’s face and listen to him squeal. “And don’t forget I saw how weak and stupid you are. You were the guard who let me escape. I played you like a fucking flute.”
“Shut up, you ugly bitch.”
Sarah smashed her elbow into Rat’s collarbone, right where she had stabbed him earlier. He hit the floor, bellowing as she kicked him in the stomach.
“I did warn you,” she said, looking down at him. “I always warn you.”
Ollie came up beside and moved her away. “You’re not making any friends,” he said to her privately. “Rat doesn’t look like much, but he holds grudges and follows them through. Be careful.”
Sarah shrugged. “What’s the worst he can do?”
Ollie wasn’t joking when he spoke. “He can put a bullet in your back the next time he’s supposed to be watching it, and I would hate to see that.”
Sarah looked over at Rat, who had gotten back to his feet and was glaring at her. If he wasn’t an enemy before, he was now.
“Why do you even care?”
Ollie became flustered before he managed to answer. “Guess it’s just nice having someone new around. Gets a bit tiring being surrounded by vicious killers night and day.”
“I’m a vicious killer,” she said.
Ollie nodded. “Less vicious, and that makes you a saint around here.”
Sarah chuckled. “What have I got myself into?”
“A dysfunctional family.”
“Yeah,” she said. “The Manson family.”
12
The Earthworm was abuzz despite the late hour. Since the MCU had its funding renewed, a major recruitment operation had been put into place. The tail section of the facility was now fully manned by twenty-eight data analysts who used the very latest in technology. Their surveillance capabilities were on par with America’s NSA and the hardware it ran on was newer than anything NASA owned. In less than a year it would be obsolete, such was the nature of surveillance technology.
The Earthworm’s middle section housed the infirmary, the dorms, and a host of offices and training rooms. Any member of MCU could access this area, but Howard kept on going until he was at the head section, where only Level 1 operatives could enter. He pressed his thumb against the scanner and went inside. It was like entering the belly of a great beast. Soft lighting merged with the blinking switches of whirring computers and all four walls were lined with monitors displaying graphs, charts, and various other readouts. In the centre of the electric grotto was the MCU’s senior team: Director Palu, Strike Team Leader Mattock, and Dr Jessica Bennett. Howard, too, was part of that leadership team.
Jessica got up and hugged him, not unusual since they’d worked closely together over the last few months. “I’m glad you’re okay,” she told him. “You sounded bad on the phone.”
Howard gave her an affectionate pat on the arm. “It’s not pretty at Whiteknight. I prefer traditional terrorists who just blow things up. At least that’s quick and final. The people I saw at Whiteknight are suffering, not knowing if they’re going to live or die. Krenshaw was going to give an even more protracted death sentence to a bunch of children. He was going to infect them all with HIV.”
“Have we confirmed that yet?” Palu asked him
, looking grim yet indefatigable as ever.
Howard nodded. “I got the call from the lab ten minutes ago. The tests were positive, which means Dr Hart, who was trying to help me, might be infected.”
Jessica obviously saw how devastating that fact was to him, because she ushered him down onto a chair as though he were an invalid. “HIV is very treatable these days,” she told him, “and there’s no guarantee Dr Hart will be infected anyway. Early treatment might prevent the virus taking hold.”
Howard nodded. “I hope so. Let’s just catch Krenshaw, then I’ll feel better.”
“That’s the plan,” said Palu. “And we have leads to that effect.”
“Is it true you saw Sarah?” Mattock asked Howard.
“Yes.”
“Blimey. I was sure the lass was dead. Glad she’s not.”
Howard was glad to see Sarah alive, too, but not under such circumstances. “We don’t know what she’s involved in. She helped kidnap Krenshaw.”
“If she’s really with her father,” said Palu. “Then it can’t be anything good. We’ve received some unofficial reports from local Intel that Major Stone hasn’t just gone rogue, but has allied himself with our enemies. Our Iranian ambassador was assassinated eight months ago at a time when Sarah’s father was rumoured to be in the country. A local resistance group swears Stone did it. The resulting turmoil led to the embassy being abandoned and our people ousted, something the Iranian government no doubt enjoyed immensely.”
“I know Major Stone,” said Mattock. “Served under him in Afghanistan and Iraq. He’s an unlovable sod with barely a care for anyone, but he lives by his honour. If he’s gone rogue, then it’s for a reason he deems valid. If he’s helping foreign governments, it’s because he thinks it’s for the greater good. His men will be following him because they believe in whatever cause he has sold them.”
“Sarah, too?” said Jessica.
Mattock nodded. “It’s her father. As much as he’s a cold-hearted sonofabitch, it’s obvious the poor girl loves him.”